Of Shoes, and Ships, and Sealing Wax

Either someone's playing a joke on me or my name isn't Simon Gourdine. Was that really Doctah J. on the tube Sunday in the opening game of the NBA finals? You bet your Ken Hubbs bubble-gum card it was--and how embarrassing is that? Doesn't Commissioner Larry O'Brien ever give up trying to get his name in the papers? You know basketball has reached a sorry state of affairs when the NBA champion is crowned after the running of the annually rain-shortened Indy 500. By the way, go with Philly over Portland in six, as the Doctah shows Walton what omnivores do to herbivores.

The NHL isn't much better. Only the quickest sweep since the Warriors took four from the Bullets in less than 24 hours a few hoop seasons ago prevented hockey from competing with the Good Humor man. What was really too bad was that the Bruins, who proved themselves against the Flyers just days before, had to play Bobick to Montreal's Norton. If the Beantowers can snag Mark Howe (they have to ask his mother's permission first) then this year's final might prove a preview of a coming attraction.

Speaking of boxing, the Ali-Evangelista fight was the most exciting thing I've seen since Evel Knieval's jump over the Snake River Canyon a few years ago. On second thought, there may be more to that analogy than I thought. Maybe Ali, like Knievel, proved that he was over the hill. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.

If Seattle Slew wins the Triple Crown, I'll shoot the first person who nominates it (note IT, not HIM) for athlete of the Year. Anymore glorification of horses and we'll be eating human rather than horse meat at our friendly fast-food dispensers. By the way, don't bet on Seattle Slew in the Belmont Stakes. Rumor has it that the odds are going to be so low that if Slew wins, the bettor pays the track $2.

Aren't the Yankees great? Those of us who are old-time Yankee haters really owe George Steinbrenner a big thank you. Never has one owner put more individuals that I hate on one team. Not only that, ol' Georgie's baseball investments are paying off about as well as his contribution to Nixon did. Don Gullet couldn't beat a Little League team from Taiwan much less anyone else. Catfish Hunter reinjured himself yesterday; team physician Yess Eimequack said that Hunter sprained his face while chewing tobacco in the bullpen. Catfish is out indefinitely and may be placed on the 21-day, "I'll see ya later" list.

Useless

Reggie Jackson is in a bad slump and will only bat against right-handed pitchers who pitch with a mitten on their throwing arm, according to soon-to-be-vacationing Billy Martin. Furthermore, Martin said that southpaw starter Ken Holtzman will pitch only on the Jewish holidays of odd years, which is also apparently the only time Craig Nettles (.197) plans on getting a base hit.

Elsewhere, Gene Autry, the Angels' owner who thought he bought himself a pennant, now realizes that all he did was lasso himself another mediocre club. Million-dollar free agent Don Baylor is particularly useful to the team: his .207 batting average wouldn't let him play in the Pacific Coast League.

By the way, for those of you who entered the Lassie Look-alike Contest, the winner will be announced at the next Harvard showing of "Rin Tin Tin Makes a Mess in the Kitchen."

Whatever happened to Leif Rosenberger?